


Blowbacks

by merrypornster (merryprankster)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryprankster/pseuds/merrypornster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A high school AU in which Arthur and Eames get stuck in a closet.  There's a companion piece to this, written from Eames' POV, by supercilious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowbacks

Arthur could hear his heart beating loud in his ears as he pressed his back against the wall, looking briefly at the thin line of light at the bottom of the door and then around the closet at the things they had pushed aside.

_They_ being he and Eames.

His heart was beating so loudly because they had been running and now they were trying to be silent. They were trying to be silent because there had been a fight, and both of them (being a little under the influence) had said some undesirable things which had in turn led to some rather large boys (who were also under the influence) had found those things offensive. It was all very stupid, in Arthur’s opinion, but now here he was with Eames in the closet and he was trying quite hard to stay as silent as possible.

“Ah, it’s gone out,” Eames said under his breath.

Arthur looked at him, about to chastise him for speaking when they were trying to hide, but then he saw that Eames was talking about his joint, and he wanted to chastise him then for actually worrying about the damn thing enough to bring it all the way here.

“You actually brought that?” Arthur hissed, not at all surprised.

“I didn’t know where we’d end up and how long we’d be here, _Arthur_ ,” Eames replied, pulling out his lighter and placing the spliff delicately between his lips. Arthur just rolled his eyes and watched as he lit up.

“You want some?” Eames asked, smirking at him between puffs.

“No,” Arthur snapped, watching the strip of light at the bottom of the door closely.

“Have you even been high before?”

“Yes.”

Eames shook his head, smiling to himself and then taking another drag from the joint.

Arthur had, in fact, been high before. He didn’t have much experience, no, but he had done it before with varying success. Eames was experienced. That was pretty much it. Arthur didn’t need to know much else.

They stayed in silence for nearly a minute, waiting to hear something outside that would indicate whether or not it was safe to leave the closet. They heard some voices at one point, and Arthur strained to hear what they were saying, but it was impossible to tell and he gave up with a sigh.

“We could’ve taken them.”

“No, we couldn’t.”

“Well, not you. You’re skinny.”

“And you’re... short.”

“ _Arthur_.” Eames was looking at him in mock offense, his mouth hanging open and his brows furrowed but turned up in the middle.

Arthur just frowned at him.

“Whatever,” Eames said, rolling his eyes and taking another drag. “They’re not out there anymore, let’s go.”

“No, no,” Arthur said, shushing him and putting his ear to the door. “I can hear them.”

Eames rolled his eyes again and waited for Arthur to pull away from the door.

“Here,” he said, holding out the joint.

“What?”

“If you’re going to keep us in here we might as well have a bit of fun, alright?”

Arthur frowned at the spliff.

Eames raised an eyebrow.

They looked at each other like that for a moment, until Eames smirked.

“We can do a blowback if you’d like,” he said, resting against the opposite wall.

“What?”

“Come here.”

Arthur shuffled a little closer to him and Eames did the same, sticking the joint in his mouth backwards. He put his hands gently on either side of Arthur’s neck, his thumbs resting along his jaw and pulled him level with the spliff. Arthur knew what to do, but he still wasn’t totally ready to inhale when Eames blew smoke into his mouth. Regardless, he managed to get most of it, averting his eyes so he wasn’t staring straight at Eames’ face. Eames hands being where they were was an all too familiar sensation, reminiscent of times neither of them ever talked about.

After a moment, Eames pulled away, turning the spliff the right way round again. “Better?”

Arthur sighed. “No.”

“That’s too bad,” Eames replied, uncaring.

Arthur let the closet fill with silence again before saying, “You did it differently with all those girls at the party.”

Eames sighed. “Well, you see Arthur, all of those girls had breasts.” He smirked up at Arthur and took another drag. “Don’t worry; I’m sure they’ll grow in within the next year or two.”

Arthur scoffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

In the dim light, Arthur could see Eames giving him a sceptical look, waiting to see what he would say. The truth of it was that that was _exactly_ what he meant, and the fact that they were in such close quarters and that he was still a little buzzed wasn’t helping the urge to do at least a little bit of necking. On top of that, it was Eames, who had proven himself quite apt at it in the past.

Not that he talked about that. Not that he ever, ever talked about that, or even thought about it. He didn’t even think about it. 

He did think about it. He thought about it a lot. He wasn’t in love with him or anything dumb like that, it was just that when they did find themselves in that situation, it had been _really_ good. Arthur wondered why he couldn’t make it that good with anyone he actually did like. It was frustrating, but then it all came back to how good it was, and horny teenagers are pretty good at focusing on that kind of thing and blocking out all the other stuff. Emotions were important things for Arthur to block out when it came to this.

Finally, he settled on an answer, realizing that Eames was still waiting. “Shut up,” he said, indignant, snatching the joint away and taking a drag of his own.

“Hey, no need to get defensive,” Eames said, looking very concerned at the fact that _his_ marijuana was no longer in _his_ possession.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Holding it ransom until I promise to give you a proper blowback, Arthur?” Eames said, folding his arms across his chest and then smirking. “Didn’t know you were _that_ desperate for me.”

“I’m not desperate for you,” Arthur shot back smoothly.

“Then what is this? We’re stuck in this closet together because you won’t let us out, and you’re implying that you’d like me to give you a mouth-to-mouth high. Forgive me, but this all is just a bit homosexual and if we’re going to go that route I’d like you to just come out and tell me.”

“I...” Eames was right, he should just come out and tell him, but Arthur didn’t know quite how to phrase it. How did you tell someone ‘yes, I want to have gay make outs and maybe a little bit more with you’? You _didn’t_ , because most guys he knew didn’t have make out sessions with other guys that irritated them to no end but with whom they were inexplicably close friends anyway. The neurotic part of him wondered a bit obsessively if this was really that out of the ordinary, but he didn’t want to worry about any of that right now.

Eames nodded to the joint. “Give it back.”

He did.

“Come here.”

He slowly shuffled closer, again.

Eames reached up and put a hand firmly on the back of Arthur’s neck, took a long, slow drag, and then pressed his open mouth against Arthur’s, exhaling.

Despite Eames taking his sweet time, it was too quick for Arthur to really register what was going on, so he couldn’t say for sure whether he got the full effect of the smoke. That really didn’t matter, though, since following the smoke was Eames’ tongue and he was _extremely_ okay with that. 

Every time they did this it was at least a little bit exciting. They both had it in their heads that it was a somewhat taboo thing to do, and they certainly didn’t tell anyone else that they were casually hooking up whenever the opportunity presented itself. The fact was that Eames was just _good_. Arthur could push or pull him and he’d respond. It went the other way, too – Arthur wasn’t afraid to respond if, say, Eames pushed him up against the wall, which he just did. Their inhibitions were out the window, as cheesy as that sounds, and the only thing either of them held onto when they did this was their dignity. Dignity was pretty important, and it was what kept Arthur from making any sounds when Eames nudged his legs apart to press his knee between them.

Arthur pushed his hands up underneath Eames’ shirt and pressed his hands flush along his sides as Eames pressed him against the wall with his entire body. Damn, that felt good. Eames’ skin was warm, but he didn’t want to try taking the shirt off, so he just let his hands wander, curling his fingers every so often when Eames managed to somehow drag his tongue along the roof of Arthur’s mouth or something like that.

Eventually, Eames seemed to decide that he had explored the inside of Arthur’s mouth about as much as he could or wanted to, so he pulled away and kissed his way down to Arthur’s neck.

Now, Arthur’s neck was quite sensitive. Eames knew this, which is probably why he went straight for it so often instead of messing around anywhere else. Eames knew that if he kissed and bit and sucked at certain places, Arthur would have a pretty quick trigger when it came to... getting aroused. As soon as he found one of those places, Arthur let out something that could maybe be described as an embarrassing squeak.

To be fair, no seventeen-year-old has enough experience to keep that kind of sound in.

He could _feel_ Eames smirk against his neck, and he privately berated himself, but that thought was cut short as Eames pulled away a little and held up his still-lit joint.

“Hold this.”

“What?”

“Just hold it.”

Arthur took it.

Eames started unzipping his pants.

Arthur helped when the zipper got caught.

As Eames’ hand slipped into the front of Arthur’s boxers, Arthur inhaled a lungful of smoke and twisted his eyes shut.

“You don’t have any..?”

“No. Wasn’t really expecting to...”

Eames frowned, but Arthur didn’t see it. He was too busy getting hard as a rock.

“It’s too bad the natural stuff Mother Nature gave us doesn’t come ‘til the end, hm?”

“That’s not what it’s...”

“Jesus, Arthur.” Eames was referring to just how hard Arthur had gotten during their short conversation, without regard to the fact that he had been encouraging said hardness the whole time with his right hand.

Arthur looked down at him with a fairly neutral expression from where his head was resting against the wall. “As if you’re not,” he said, glancing briefly at Eames’ pants.

“We’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way, then,” Eames murmured before dipping his head to kiss Arthur’s neck again, his hand performing miracles down the front of Arthur’s pants. Of course, his pants were quickly proving to be too restrictive, so Eames just tugged them and Arthur’s underwear down to sit on his hips, leaving the _important_ parts exposed.

He went back to work; his hand moving with a purpose now, and Arthur couldn’t help but make some sounds as he rocked a little on Eames’ leg. Eames didn’t make the situation any more relaxing as he sucked on Arthur’s neck, breathing hard out his nose. Arthur could feel Eames’ erection pressing against his hip, and that just sent extra shivers up his spine and right down into his fingertips, which were digging into Eames’ back.

Arthur didn’t last very long. Neither of them was trying to make this experience tender or intimate, so Arthur didn’t bother to hold back when he felt himself coming. Eames paused, pulling away from Arthur’s neck and looking down, watching.

Arthur didn’t want to watch. He closed his eyes, slumping against the wall. When he opened them, Eames grinned, holding up his hand which was coated in... an unmentionable substance.

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

Eames sighed, taking back his joint with his clean hand.

Arthur went about pulling his pants back up and tucking himself in. Eames looked around and found a roll of paper towel to wipe his hand off, and then he reached for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” Arthur said, doing up his fly.

“Going back to my room to knock one off,” Eames replied dryly.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t...”

Damn, how did one finish that sentence?

Eames grinned, took his hand off the doorknob and slowly pressed Arthur against the wall again. “Great, let’s see your little girl hands go to work, then. Unless you were thinking...” His eyes flicked to Arthur’s lips. Arthur didn’t miss it, and he immediately gave Eames a _look_ to say his mouth wasn’t going anywhere near _that_.

Eames didn’t look surprised, but he did shift uncomfortably, pressing his hips a little harder against Arthur’s.

“Whatever you’re going to do, get on with it, I’m fucking dying down here,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, and Arthur got to work hastily. There was a mess of hands undoing Eames’s pants and getting them and his boxers out of the way, and it was all punctuated by awkward kisses. Arthur wasn’t in too much of a hurry, but Eames murmured a few wordless encouragements to keep him going in the right direction. Finally he managed to wrap his hand around Eames’ cock and started pumping.

Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck to kiss him with newfound vigour. Arthur pushed himself off the wall and rested his hand on Eames’ back so he could keep him steady. Eames managed to drown out his groans in Arthur’s mouth, but that didn’t stop Arthur from hearing them and smiling as he jerked him off just a little harder. He wasn’t going to take his time with this – the buzz was wearing off and he wanted to fall into bed. As good as Eames’ warm body (and tongue) felt, he had a feeling they’d be back to this again soon and he wanted there to be some lubricant available when they did.

Eames groaned especially loud, which meant his grand finale was fast approaching. Arthur got a little more persistent, and Eames’ hips tilted into his hand and _God_ it was almost enough to get him turned on again, but he kept his mind off that as Eames pulled out of the kiss to breath hotly in his ear. The sound he made as he came was a bit of a strangled groan, and Arthur smirked to himself.

“ _Fuck_ ,” said Eames, detangling himself and reaching for the paper towel again.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, closing his eyes and trying to reach a meditative state so that his body calmed itself. He glanced at the door. “You think it’s safe to go out?”

“What?”

“You think they’re gone?”

Eames looked at the door, confused, and then back at Arthur. “Oh. Yeah, we lost them before we got to the dorms.”

“What?”

“They never followed us in.”

Arthur had a lot of questions that he would have liked to berate Eames with, but he just settled with, “you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I got off. Got you off too, so don’t be ungrateful.” Eames smiled at him as he finished cleaning everything off and doing his pants back up.

Arthur opened the door, looking at Eames with an immense amount of disapproval. “Asshole,” he said again, stepping out.

Eames just grinned, following him and saying, “so, same time next week?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [kinda i want to](https://archiveofourown.org/works/487876) by [supercilious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercilious/pseuds/supercilious)




End file.
